


I've Got The Power

by collatorsden_archivist



Category: Ashes to Ashes, Life on Mars & Related Fandoms, Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: G - White Cortina, Humor, Time Period: 1973-1981 (Life on Mars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-05
Updated: 2011-08-05
Packaged: 2019-01-20 18:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12438570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collatorsden_archivist/pseuds/collatorsden_archivist
Summary: Sam gets back to his flat to find it in darkness...





	I've Got The Power

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Janni, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [the Collators' Den](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Collators%27_Den), which was moved to the AO3 to ensure access and longevity for the fanworks. I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the Collators' Den collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/collatorsden/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** This is a little ficlet inspired (and my first ever attempt at LoM fiction if I remember rightly) by a post I made on The Sam Squee thread on The Railway Arms, in which I noted that Sam often leaves the TV and lamps on in his flat when he goes out....

Sam pushes the door shut with his foot, reaching for the light switch with his right hand (the left being busy holding the two bottles of wine he’d bought moments earlier from a strangely reluctant Nelson – “You drink too much, Sam. Be good to your liver tonight, hey?” - which advice he’d ignored, of course, on account of his being somewhat shaken after his near-death experience at the hands of Colin Bannister). The switch snicks, but nothing happens – the dingy flat remains in darkness. 

 

“Shit!” The bulb must’ve blown again. There’s barely enough light to see by from the street lamp outside his window and Sam curses as he crosses the room, intending to turn on the lamp in the corner but instead catching his shin on the corner of the bed frame. He puts the wine bottles down on the bed, dropping his keys beside them, and feels his way around the bed until he finds the lamp. He fumbles for the switch – again, nothing. Damn.

 

It isn’t a power cut – the lamps outside still cast their sickly orange glow through the grubby curtains, and the hallway had been lit as usual. There’s only one explanation. He rummages in his pockets for loose change for the electric meter and groans when he fails to find anything useful. He really will have to start remembering to turn off the lamps and the TV before he goes out...


End file.
